Betrayal
by luna8
Summary: What would the doctor do if...?
1. Betrayal

Listening to opera got me in the mood to write this. None of my other favourite authors are writing much (guilt, guilt), so it seems that I must amuse myself.

Add the usual "don't sue me"

This takes place after the book or all the stories where the movie ends properly.

The idea behind this is what would the doctor do if…?

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"I'm going out for a while. I'll be back sometime after lunch," Clarice called as the door slammed behind her. Hannibal Lecter looked up sharply from the paper he was reading to the window, in time to see her dash across the street and around the corner. It was very unlike her to go off without him, and even more odd to leave without telling him where she was going. He felt uneasy for a moment, but decided he would just ask her when she got back. He was sure she had a good explanation. Perhaps she had wanted to go shopping without him along. He knew that she was somewhat self-conscious about purchasing things when he was around, even though her own innate taste in clothing was superb. When she had access to the appropriate funding of course.

He chuckled as he recalled their first shopping trip together. They had just arrived in Paris from South America, and Clarice had been in terrible need of a new wardrobe. They had spent the entire day in quaint shops and high-end boutiques. At the end of the day, Clarice had sat, looking at the large pile of boxes and bags piled on their hotel room bed, with a highly amused expression on her face. She'd asked him if he realized that they'd spent more that day than she had made in her entire career in the F.B.I. He remembered laughing and telling her that if he hadn't know better he would have thought that she had married him for his money. As he recalled the 'fashion show' that had followed, a smile crossed his face. It was the same smile that the National Tattler had sworn could make babies cry. It certainly had other more amusing effects on Clarice.

Hannibal sighed and went back to reading the paper, but he was still uneasy. He was still rather stunned by the fact that Clarice had left everything behind her in order to stay with him. He came to depend on her presence to keep his nightmares away, just as she depended on him. He couldn't imagine what he would do if she ever left him. He didn't think he could just let her go. He didn't really want to think about such gloomy thoughts, and went to the kitchen to make lunch just in case she came home early.

She didn't. He ended up eating by himself, and activity that he had accomplished without much thought for the majority of his life. Today was different. After having had a table companion for many months now, he missed the soft flow of Clarice's voice as she chatted about some new book or piece of music she had discovered or what outing they would be enjoying that night. He missed being able to watch her eat. How she held her glass and the way her beautiful mouth closed around her fork, were things he took great delight in. Never being one to take anything for granted, Hannibal never the less, found himself more acutely aware of her little quirks and mannerisms when she was absent.

After tidying up the few dishes he had used, he returned to the library, with the idea that he would continue with the translation he was currently working on. He couldn't focus on the task at hand and ended up pacing up and down in front of the windows until he heard the front door open and Clarice's step in the hall.

She pushed the library door open and offered him a smile as she dropped her bag on the chair nearby. She walked over to the stereo and picked out Verdi's opera _Il trovatore_ - her new favourite cd. Hannibal knew she had been listening to it lately while she bathed. He surmised that she was headed for the tub now.

"Did you have a nice time?" he asked. All he received by way of a response to his query was an affirmative hum, as she left the room and headed up the stairs. A minute later he heard the water begin to run in the upstairs bathroom and Luciano Pavarotti and Joan Sutherland began singing _Di quella pira_. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer he followed her upstairs.

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Well, this turned into a short one, but there will be more soon. I have to stop ignoring my chemistry now tho. And I promise no more anagrams. luna.


	2. Questions

Add the usual "they're not mine (sniffle, sniffle)".

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Hannibal walked silently up the stairs and turned left to the open door of the master bedroom. He could hear Clarice humming along with the Italian duet, and some splashing announced that she had gotten into the tub. He spotted her clothes lying in a heap by her dressing table, and with a tolerant shake of his head, he bent to pick them up. As he sniffed the air, his brow furrowed. He lifted her shirt to his nose and inhaled deeply. His frown deepened as he tried to identify the familiar but unknown scent. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized he smelled a man's cologne mixed with her unique scent. Where could she have been that she would have picked up such a smell on her clothes?

He was extremely curious now and wandered over to the bathroom trying to decide how best to broach the subject. He didn't want her to know he was curious, because she delighted in keeping such little tidbits of information to herself, just to make him aggravated. "Getting a little of her own back" was what she called it. Humph! The idea was to be delicate about the questions he asked, and he could be nothing if not delicate. 

He paused on the threshold of the bathroom to enjoy the sight of Clarice lounging in the bathtub, up to her neck in bubbles. He would have preferred if she hadn't added so much bubble bath, but the freesia scent was quite nice. He dropped her clothes in the hamper drawing her attention to him.

"Hi," she said with a lazy smile before she closed her eyes again.

"Hi, yourself," he answered as he crossed to a wicker chair sitting next to the tub. "Did you have a nice morning?" he asked as if totally uninterested in the answer.

"Yes, the weather is beautiful outside today," she purred as she relaxed in the warm water.

"Did you meet anyone interesting?" he questioned further watching the curl on her cheek flutter on her breath. She sat up a little and looked at him with a quizzical expression on her face.

"That's an odd question," she said instead of answering.

"You brought some interesting scents back with you," he said gesturing to the laundry hamper. Her brow furrowed and then comprehension dawned. Some other unidentifiable expression crossed her features briefly before she laughed and turned her shining eyes to him.

"I went to the little shop down on rue St. James, to find you some new cologne," she explained. "Did you think I'd gone out to meet some other man?" she asked with a cheeky grin. She laughed again and settled back down in the tub. With some discomfort, Hannibal realized that that was exactly what he had thought, and that his suspicions hadn't been alleviated because he knew she was lying. There was only one scent on her clothes; there would have been many if she had been to the perfume shop. He was sure she knew better than to go behind his back with another man. He would never hurt her, but such actions would have deadly consequences for her partner.

"Did you find anything you liked?" he asked instead of answering her question.

"Yes, but I wasn't sure you'd like it so I left it," she explained smoothly. He was puzzled at the slight twist of truth in her words. He was fairly sure she wasn't having an affair, but couldn't put his doubts to rest. The expression on her face was content, but not that content. She seemed slightly anxious, but in a more excited than nervous way. He had always been able to read her emotions like a book, and could succinctly deduce their cause. Today, however, he didn't have a clue, which made him itch to find out what she was up to. Well, there was one way to find out for sure if she was seeing another man, he thought as she stepped out of the bath. She reached for a towel but he stopped her and wrapped his arms around her instead, heedless of the damage to his silk shirt. She laughed,

"I wondered when you were going to get around to this," she purred. Hannibal smiled, nope, definitely not another man, he thought as he lifted her, sopping wet into his arms, and placed a passionate kiss on her mouth. She moaned and pulled his head closer as he carried her back into the bedroom. The afternoon was spent in much more satisfying persuits.

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A week later, Hannibal still didn't know where Clarice had gone or what she had done that morning the week before. He couldn't just ask her and it was starting to drive him nuts. She hadn't gone anywhere without him since. He was beginning to wonder if maybe she had just gone shopping, but the look in her eyes, when he'd subtly questioned her later that evening, had told him differently. What could she be hiding from him? What could there possibly be that she didn't feel she could confide in him? He was beginning to obsess about it.

So when, for the second time in a week, Clarice left without telling him where she was going, his decision to follow her was instantaneous. Tracking her through the streets of Paris wasn't all too difficult. He stayed about fifty feet behind her, blending in with the local people and the tourists. They moved down small side streets, where Clarice sometimes paused to look in a shop window, but she didn't enter any of them. Hannibal found the newspaper, he'd carried out of the house with him, quite useful at one point. Clarice had moved on from looking display of stained glass mirrors. Hannibal had been leaning up against the wall a few shops down when she had abruptly stopped and turned. He shielded his face with the paper, until she turned back and continued on. 

She led quite a merry chase along the lesser traveled paths of the city, and he was slightly amazed when he found himself entering a market square located not far from their house. They'd been walking for almost and hour, and he thought that perhaps she had just gone out to wander around by herself for a while. He lost her momentarily in the crowd but then saw the flash of her red hair across the square. He moved quickly to the perimeter of the square and started to make his way around the crowd to where he had seen Clarice. 

His progress was abruptly halted as someone stepped from a shadowed doorway behind him, and he felt the cold press of the muzzle of a gun against his neck. The voice that whispered in his ear made him tense more than the gun ever could.

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Well there we have it folks, chpt 2. I've given up the anagrams but I don't think I can give up the cliffhangers :) Let me know what you think. Oh and guess what?? My favourite actor, Mr. Anthony Hopkins, is working on Red Dragon right now!!! Ya!! Thought I'd pass that on to those who haven't heard yet. luna.


	3. Capture

Yah! Chpt 3! Thanks for all the encouraging reviews!

Add the usual "I bow to the creator that is Harris"

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"Over to that alley there. Walk slow and keep your hands where I can see them, doctor" the voice hissed in his ear. 

He knew he was in trouble when she called him 'doctor.' As soon as he had reached the entrance to the ally he was spun around and pushed up against the wall. Clarice was standing in front of him, with her gun lowered slightly. She was really pissed off, in fact he couldn't remember her being this mad. He supposed that she did have a valid reason to be mad. If mad was the word to describe the current state of Clarice's emotions.

"Honey," he said in a pleading tone only to have the gun leveled at his chest again.

"Don't you 'honey' me you jerk!" she ground out between clenched teeth. "You've been following me." It wasn't a question.

"Well…" Hannibal said, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. She didn't give him a chance.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you trailing me? That was one of the many things they managed to teach me well back at the F.B.I." She drew out the letters in a mockery of his speech so many years ago. He winced slightly at the coldly furious tone she used. He was used to loud, profane screaming fits that he could weather until she calmed down. This was another kind of anger all together. Her blue eyes were like slate as she stared relentlessly into his. A part of him noticed how magnificent she was; a memory he would savor at the proper time.

"Why? Are you such a control freak that you have to know where I am and what I'm doing every single minute of the day?" her volume was starting to increase, but she stopped suddenly as something clicked in her mind. He almost thought he could hear it.

"This is about last week, isn't it? You think I'm having an affair! You actually think I'm having a fucking affair behind your back! You still don't trust me!" She didn't give him a chance to respond, as she stepped back into firing stance and leveled the gun at him once more. "You know, I'm mad enough to blow your fucking head off," she said as she stared at him over the barrel of her gun. Talk about stating the obvious he thought silently. "And I could get away with it too. I've also learned a few things from you," she said quite calmly.

In that moment, Hannibal knew a moment of real fear. Fear like he had not experienced since his childhood. Part of him vaguely wondered what he had created in Clarice, while another part of him was sure she was going to pull the trigger. Then as suddenly as she had been there she was gone. Hannibal released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He didn't follow her further.

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That night Clarice came in well after supper. Hannibal was sitting in the library thinking. She didn't come in and he didn't seek her out. She went upstairs and he heard water run in the bathroom. It was two hours later when he heard the door to the room softly open.

"Hannibal?" she questioned quietly as she padded barefoot over to his chair. Well she was back to using his name, that at least was a good sign.

"Yes," he said and turned to look at her. She was wearing a light robe and he could see the strap of the camisole she liked to wear to bed on one shoulder. She was biting her lower lip, but released it as she reached his side.

"I'm sorry about what happened today," she said in a rush and then quickly looked down at the floor. She missed the startled look on her husband's face; she still continued to surprise him.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

"Well, most regular couples don't deal with each other at gun point," she said still looking at the floor.

"We're not exactly a regular couple, my dear. Besides which, it brought back fond memories from our um… courtship?" he quipped. This brought a small chuckle from Clarice and she peaked at him from under her lashes.

"So, you're not mad at me for pulling my gun on you?" she asked.

"Are you still mad at me for following you?" he asked her instead of answering.

"No, not really. I proved I can out-sneak-you, so I guess we're even," she said with a smile.

"I'm not mad at you; I never was. Surprised but not mad. And as for being able to 'out-sneak-me'?" he commented with a quirked eyebrow, "I wasn't even trying." At this comment Clarice's head shot up.

"Tell me where you where going today and where you went last week," he said quietly.

"No," Clarice stated firmly. His head tilted to one side in question. "I'm not telling, because you need to trust me."

"And just what would it take to make you tell?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"Wild horses couldn't drag it from me," Clarice announced dramatically as she turned and headed for the door. She'd gone about two steps when she heard a soft growl in her ear and found herself being lifted off her feet. He tossed her on the sofa in front of the fire and stood menacingly over her.

"Let's see if I can tickle it out of you," he hissed before he attacked her with relish. He was merciless but her shrieks and giggles soon degenerated into something much more interesting and Hannibal forgot all about extracting information.

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It was sometime after midnight when Hannibal awoke to hear Clarice padding cautiously toward their bedroom door. Her obvious stealth had him intrigued. Now what was she up to? He gave her a few moments to see if she would return and then got up and moved silently down the stairs. He could hear her voice murmuring from the direction of the kitchen. He stopped in the hall, as her words became distinct.

"Yes, please hurry. No I don't think I can hold on much longer. Yes I'll be waiting. Goodbye." At her words Hannibal stood stunned. It could only mean one thing. She had regretted her decision and had turned him in. Turned him in to her precious F.B.I. in hopes that they would take her back. How could he have been such a fool? The rage boiled up inside him. It seemed she always insisted on learning the hard way. He whipped around the corner and pinned her against the wall before she could draw breath. His grip was merciless and his cobalt eyes burned with an icy fire. She looked slightly shocked at his sudden appearance and he decided to let her know that he was in on her little secret.

"So the little starling has decided to leave the nest, has she? Unfortunately for her the cat has other ideas." Her eyes widened in fear as she realized his intent.

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umm, ya. Let me know what you think. I have a few different ideas for the end – which will be the next chpt. Should be posted soon – I managed to write my midterms in my spare time – I'm such a multitalented girl… hehe luna.


	4. Entendre

Hey folks here's the end – entitled "entendre"

Add the usual "I am nothing, I own nothing, so don't sue"

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Hannibal savoured the fear evident in her eyes. She shook her head and tried to speak but his large hand covered her mouth, turning her words into murmurs.

"Beauty and the Beast indeed. You thought you had me wrapped around your little finger, didn't you Clarice?" he stroked her little finger with his thumb where he had her hands pinned against the wall above her head. 

"Hannibal the Cannibal fell in love and became as tame as a pussy cat, was that the plan Clarice? Seduce me and then turn me in?" he blew a stray strand of her hair away form her neck. His voice was again the dangerous calm of Baltimore and the gesture was ironically gentle in the face of his anger. 

"I was supposed to be so enthralled with your body that I wouldn't know until it was too late. Well, you do have a lovely body Clarice and I have thoroughly enjoyed it…" at this he ground his hips hard against hers and she whimpered, but still he wouldn't let her speak. "…but not enough to return to captivity." He roughly turned her and brought her up against his chest. With his left arm around her body just above her elbows he held her captive, with his right he held his harpy to her throat. 

"Now Clarice you're going to tell me who you phoned and when our 'guests' will be arriving, and I shouldn't have to tell you not to lie to me," he held her even tighter, his left hand making bruises on her arm. She took a few deep breaths, or at least as deep as she could manage around the knife at her throat.

"I phoned the pizza place down the street and they'll be here in fifteen minutes," she said calmly. She felt him tense behind her and then heard his forced laugh.

"Always playing the game, Agent Starling, but this time I don't buy it. I overheard you talking to someone at the F.B.I…" Clarice cut him off for the first time in her life,

"What exactly did you overhear doctor? You have such and excellent memory, quote to me exactly what you heard." Hannibal was taken off balance by her commanding tone and replied automatically,

"'Yes, please hurry. No I don't think I can hold on much longer. Yes I'll be waiting. Goodbye.'"

"I was talking to Michele at the pizza place, not to anyone at the F.B.I. I was hungry and had a craving for pizza. Hit the redail button on the phone and you'll see if I'm telling the truth," Clarice argued.

"I know it was good Clarice," he purred, "but I doubt you worked up such an appetite that you would require pizza at two o'clock in the morning. Very nice ploy to try and waste my time, your pals must be close, which means I must be leaving." Hannibal felt her body stiffen away from him for the first time since the confrontation had begun. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was telling the truth. On a whim he decided to give her one last chance, all the while remembering that it was a whim that had gotten him caught the first time.

"All right, my dear, I'm feeling generous. I'll give you one last chance to tell me where you were last week and today, and you better make it good because it might be the last thing you ever say," he inhaled her scent one last time as he prepared to make good on his threat.

"I was at the doctor's," Clarice said quietly, not in defeat but acceptance. She had known from the beginning that she was taking a chance to be with him. It was probably the only thing that could have stayed his hand.

"Why would you need to visit a physician?" Hannibal asked, masking his concern with scorn.

"I'm pregnant," she stated simply. There was absolute silence for a few minutes as Hannibal tried to weigh the truth of her statement. He wasn't about to play the fool twice in one night. The last time he remembered her menstruating was more than two months ago, but he might just not have noticed. At least that was what he tried to tell himself. As he was debating the validity of her claim, a knock came, from around the corner, on the kitchen door. Clarice held her breath as Hannibal made his decision.

"Answer it," he ordered, pushing her away form him, "but believe me, neither of us will leave this house alive if that's who I think it is." Clarice walked calmly around the corner and opened the door.

"Salut Mme. McMillan, un autre désir d'heure avancé?" Hannibal heard a young man ask. '_Another_ late night craving'?

"Oui, Paul. Combien est-ce que c'est?" Clarice replied with a perfect accent. The business at the door was completed quickly with a large tip for the young man. Once the door was locked again, Hannibal stepped into the kitchen in time to see Clarice put two steaming boxes of pizza on the counter.

"You're pregnant?" were the first words out of his mouth. Clarice didn't face him as she answered,

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked with genuine puzzlement.

"Well, I wanted to be sure before I said anything. I didn't know how you'd react. I know you never bargained on a family and sometimes I think you wish you'd never bargained on me either." She still couldn't turn and face him; so much for her infallible courage.

"You're quite right, Clarice. I never did bargain on you," he said quietly. He noticed a slight tremor along her shoulders. "I planned, plotted, and otherwise schemed until I got you right where I wanted you," he said as he came up behind her, and put her arms around her, "and that's right here." She leaned against him and he nuzzled her hair away from her neck, so he could plant tiny kisses down to her shoulder.

"So you don't mind that I'm pregnant?" she asked quietly.

"Of course not!" he asserted. She turned around in his arms so she could look into his eyes.

"Don't lie, 'cus I need to know," she pleaded. Instead of answering her with words, he kissed her deeply. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder at his reassurance. 

"Why didn't you tell me this afternoon, when I asked?" His quiet question was whispered in her ear.

"You don't trust me," she said simply. Hannibal couldn't argue with that statement, the events of the last 20 minutes were proof. Instead he nodded and sighed.

"Will you promise no more sneaking around without sufficient explanation, if I promise to stop my curiosity from turning to paranoia?" he asked with a self-mocking chuckle. She looked up at him and smiled,

"I do."

"I do too," he said smiling. Never again were gun or harpy to be brought into their relationship.

"Do you want some of that gelatinous mess that passes for pizza before it's totally cold?" he asked looking down at her.

"I'm not very hungry anymore," she said with a little yawn.

"Hmmm…" he grinned as he took her by the hands and started walking backwards towards the hall, "we'll just have to see if we can't find your appetite again, eh?" Clarice laughed and shook her head at her husband's own insatiable cravings.

The pizza was left on the counter until late the next morning.

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Yah, I'm a sucker for a happy ending too! :) hope you enjoyed – please excuse the bad french. I don't know when I'll post my next Hannibal fic – I'm working on an original at the moment. For anyone who likes older blue-eyed antiheroes, you can find it in the horror section. Thnx for the encouraging reviews – luna.


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